Just found out that Many Mountains Moving has taken two poems, one of which has hot primitive Italian glass dildo sex in it. Also, I'm happy because the other poem currently resides in the new manuscript, the whole rest of which hasn't even seen the light of day because it arrived in a series of hot spurts and I've been too busy immortalizing the spurts on the page to actually submit them anywhere. So that makes, let's see, twenty-six poems that need to go out, which is so loco.
I watched Fiddler on the Roof last night and decided that I am going to start worshiping Topol the way other people worship Judy Garland or Marilyn Monroe. Has anyone else had this idea, or am I a pioneer? The domain lazerwolfyouarepwned.com is still available, as is zeromostelwuzarenard.com, so that bodes well. This is what he looked like when he was young, which is to say: majestic and jocular. Majocular. Majesticular! Not to mention patriotic and scientific. I take back everything I've ever said about wanting to meet Gary Busey; I want to meet Topol instead. Also, I think that instead of telling my children about Santa, I will tell them about Topol, who comes in the night and booms in your ear and pours creamy milk into the whites of your eyes, which is better than whatever the hell Santa does.
3 comments:
I'm happy for you and Topol, but consider his-near namesake, too. Topo Gigio would be a lot easier to draw and not nearly strong enough to resist sea lice, hot primitive Italian glass dildo sex, or whatever else you have in store for your icons.
http://www.tvacres.com/puppets_topogigio.htm
(I realize I haven't allowed for the possibility that this
http://www.drugstore.com/qxp15460_333181_sespider/topol/anticavity_fluoride_toothpaste_fresh_spearmint.htm
is what you were thinking of, but I just can't picture a tube of toothpaste pouring creamy milk into the whites of your eyes. An Italian mouse?--now that's another matter.)
Worhipped Topol? Many is the all day long that I've biddy-biddy-bomed, wrapped in the earthy-yet-loving warmth of his impish eyes. In my dreams he and Judy Garland soar through the night sky astride a primitive Italian glass dildo while singing "If I Were a Rich Man" and "Clang, Clang, Clang Went the Trolley" in alternate-verse rounds.
WORHIPPED--what a fortuitous misspelling! Try pronouncing it "WHORE-HIPPED;" that seems to be the best way.
Richard, if you can't imagine a massive tube of the so-called "smoker's toothpaste" glugging milk into a child's awestruck eye, then I have to say you're in entirely the wrong profession.
Post a Comment